KaneAngel of Retribution
by Alex Kane 1653
Summary: Alex Kane, a soldier dead-set against evil, is charged with bringing in two of the infamous, and undead, serial killers: Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees.  Remake-based with character traits from original films.  Rated T for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

_**Kane—The Angel of Retribution**_

Summary: Alexander Kane, part vigilante, part spiritual warrior, is given a task to bring in two of the most evil, undead, and demonic killers…alive! Can he find them? Will he be able to capture them? More importantly, can he restrain himself from disobeying his orders by killing them?

Author's Note: I do not own _A Nightmare on Elm Street_, _Friday the 13__th_, or any of the characters therein. The only part of this story I do own is the character and story of Alex Kane. Also, if you want to know more about the character and/or happen to like _The Lovely Bones_, then check out my alternate ending for that story involving my star character.

(Kane's POV)

I was getting some granola bars for my late breakfast when I recalled what happened last night. When I was getting out of bed in my abandoned subway home I was wondering if it had just been a weird dream like I used to have in my younger days. However, the ache in my shoulder and tingling in my nose made me realize it was real. Last night I killed a man.

Being stationed in Chicago, a major American city, I was bound to witness some heavy criminal elements. Hell, John Wayne Gacy lived in the suburbs of this town. I liked Chicago more than St. Louis as far as big cities close (sort of) to home went. Plus I didn't want to live in someplace to scum-ridden like New York or L.A. I'd probably never get a moment's peace in either of those places.

When I first came here, I'd already gotten some experience in purging the streets of America, drifting from town to town, hoping for some serial killer or rapist or something. You see, I kill people for a living, unless I'm ordered to bring someone in alive, which is rarely. Believe it or not, those orders come from Upstairs. I know it sounds kind of cliché or stupid saying that I work for Him. Well, in my opinion I don't. As far as I was concerned, I was damned from the moment I took my last breath. Of course, by a miracle, as some would call it, it wasn't the end. One minute I'm trying not to struggle with the rope around my neck, the next I wake up in a dark box, which led to me meeting Gabriel, my friend (to a degree) and former mentor/caretaker. He got me on my feet, and took me across Europe to learn about hunting. He apparently wanted me to hunt down evil forces from Hell, as well as "rehabilitate" lost and all but evil souls, hence the bringing people in alive. Apparently, as long as I did as I was told, I could hunt down evil humans any way I saw fit, even if Gabriel didn't approve of it.

At first, I was a bit inhibited, but as time grew, as well as my body count, I found killing a lot easier. I was never comfortable with the idea of me killing, but I thought of it as a job to be done and had to put my mind away from the fact that these assholes died by _my_ hands. Aside from that, it was enjoyable to a degree, especially the ones who preyed on kids. I loved giving them a taste of their own medicine and I always made sure it was slow.

After two years, I settled into Chicago. It was long until I found my humble abode. Shortly after that, I made a friend. His name was Eddie Davis. He was a young guy in his early twenties, somewhere around my age, when I first met him. Apparently, Eddie hung out with a bad crowd and one night his "pals" got a little too drunk and combined it with their usual attitude, taking it out on Eddie's face and ribs. I came in and beat the crap out of them, he wanted to repay me and we've pretty much been pals ever since. With his background, he can get me information on suspicious activity, plus he's good with electronics, though I wouldn't necessarily call him a hacker. He's also sort of my liaison with the organized crime element of the city. If someone in that business ever steps out of line or bites off more than they can chew, their bosses call for me. Hey, a guy's gotta earn income somehow, plus the bosses know not to fuck with me judging from the damage I've done to the real shitheads of this city.

Speaking of which, last night I was on duty, tracking a pedophile who had gotten bail from a light sentencing due to lack of evidence or some shit. It was about 2 A.M. when I snuck into his apartment window. I was ready with some chloroform when he jolted awake. I guess he wasn't that heavy a sleeper. We struggled, and apparently he had some fight in him. He broke my nose and twisted my arm before I finally got him. These kinds of wounds were trivial to me. Apparently in my "rebirth," I was given some kind of Wolverine-esque healing. It was pretty cool, for the most part. It still hurt like hell though. Anyway, I snuck off with him and took him someplace secluded where I proceeded to do things that would rival an Eli Roth movie.

This was all pretty much the long and short of what I did, unless I got some special assignment from Gabriel. Sometimes demons would possess someone and I had to exorcise it, and sometimes a serial killer needed to be reformed and I had to give him a hug pretty much. I'd prefer the former, even though demons can actually hurt me. I have quite a few scars from their claws, teeth, and blades. Anything human would end up healing without a scratch to show for it.

I noticed on my desk there was an envelope with my real name, the name I abandoned when I clawed myself out of my grave. I opened it and there were two folders and a note. I read the note first:

_These two are very special individuals. Their reformation could change everything. It is of the utmost importance that they are both brought in UNHARMED._

_Everything you need to know about them are in the folders._

_Yours Truly,_

_Gabriel_

I opened up the first folder. The first few things were records of a kid, conceived by rape in an asylum. Apparently some poor nun was accidently locked in with the maximum security prisoners. Then there were some school records showing that the boy may have been physically abused and was bullied for his not-so-secret parentage, which would sometimes result in his violent coping methods, including crushing the classroom's pet with a hammer. The next few clippings showed a mysterious death of a pimp named Underwood and that there was some suspicion placed on his teenaged foster son, that poor rape baby grown up. Other records show his job as a janitor at the local power plant, his marriage and divorce of wife Loretta, who took custody of their daughter Katherine. The guy was laid off with everyone else when the plant closed, but he quickly got a job as a gardener at a pre-school. The next few items were interesting. They were testimonies from a girl named Nancy Holbrook and her boyfriend Quentin Smith. They talked of the man, that he had abused them in some way they could no longer remember and had told their parents. He was never heard from again, presumed missing for a while. Records assume he's dead now. The kids' testimonies go on about how their parents chased him down like a dog, much like I might've, into an old power plant outside of town, the one he worked at years before, and they threw Molotov cocktails inside, perhaps to scare him out, resulting in his burning to death. However, he didn't stay dead. From what I could gather, some demonic force brought him back from the grave to get revenge on those who told on him. He stuck at them from their dreams, until Nancy and Quentin found a way to bring him out and they chopped his hand off, cut his throat, and burned the undead body. The testimonies end when they say he just went back to the dreams, and even killed Nancy's mom.

Jesus, this guy sounded horrible. Normally, I would bring a son of a bitch like this down HARD, but I had my orders. I had to bring him in. His name was Frederick Charles Krueger, but most people called him Fred or Freddy. He lived in Springwood, Ohio. However, before I did anything, I remembered the note Gabriel left and that he mentioned "two." Dear God, there's another one! I put Freddy's file down and looked at the other one.

There was a family tree of the name Voorhees, dated all the way back to the 16th century with an article concerning one of the first names on the tree, Thomas Voorhees. He was convicted of being a devil worshipper and murdering a 14 year old girl, apparently as a sacrifice for immortality. He was executed, leaving behind a pregnant widow. I noticed that all the Voorhees men down the tree were firstborns of their fathers. The tree was dated in the 1920s with the current relative being one Elias Voorhees.

Other items included doctor's bills for a pregnancy, love letters from Elias to a girl named Pamela, letters going vice versa (detailing very obsessive sounding behavior from Pamela), a marriage certificate between the lovers, and a birth certificate some months later naming their son Jason. More paperwork from doctor's showed Jason to have an enlarged head, deformed face, and a partial hump on his back. School records show that he was highly recommended to go to a special school, not only due to impaired intelligence but also due to excessive bullying. Next were some police records of domestic violence from Pamela and love letters from Elias to some unknown girl who obviously wasn't his wife, which probably caused the incident. Records state that Elias ran off with his mystery girl and eventually married her and had a daughter by her, leaving Pamela and Jason to fend for themselves. Pamela's obsessive behavior encouraged her overprotective nature for her only child. She always had to be near him, including when she cooked at the summer camp, taking him along as one of the campers. There are police records saying the boy drowned under tragic circumstances and Pamela accused a boy and girl, who were counselors charged by her to watch her son, of having sex while Jason was calling for help. Nothing was done, and the next year the two teens were found murdered. The bad press ruined the camp's reputation and closed it for good. Its rep was worsened by two attempts to reopen it, one resulting in the tampering of the water supply and the other in arson. However, the worst was yet to come when another attempt was made, this time resulting in seven murders. Pamela was behind everything in some effort to close down the place where beloved boy died. Unfortunately for her, the last person standing that night fought back and Pam got her head chopped off with a machete. The girl went to the cops, but when they showed up, Pamela's head, her sweater, and the machete that killed her were gone. Ever since then, people would start disappearing when they went into the woods. There were even a few "sightings" of some hermit man-beast.

Apart from the few eyewitnesses and several disappearances, which I'm sure were murders, nothing was official. As far as the authorities could say, Jason Voorhees drowned and that was that. Testimonies of various townsfolk questioned concerning the missing youths say differently. They detail Jason as a wild man who had made the camp and the woods around it his home, and that should anyone venture onto his territory, he'll punish them the same way his mother punished that first group of kids years ago. The guy was practically an urban legend until two eyewitnesses came forward scared out of their minds. Clay Miller and his sister Whitney claimed that Jason killed two groups of kids in six weeks' time, the first group being Whitney's friends. Apparently, the poor girl resembled a young Pamela Voorhees, or at least a photo of her in a locket Jason kept, so he abducted her. In some way he must've thought it was her. When she went missing, Clay came to look for her, but he found a partying group of college kids on spring break and an enraged madman stalking them all. Whitney used her coincidental looks to get the brute off his guard enough to strangle him on a chain and stab him in the chest with a machete. They were dumping his body in the lake when apparently he wasn't dead, or perhaps he was but came back. He just jumped out of the water trying to grab Whitney when Clay kicked him back in and they both ran like hell until they got out of the woods, not stopping once. For all anybody knows, he's still there, waiting for the next unlucky trespasser.

The documents all said Jason lived in Wessex County in New Jersey. The lake, camp, and town were all named Crystal Lake.

I had to admit that Jason sounded like a guy after my own heart. If he wasn't so prejudiced against _every_one we just might get to be friends. Nonetheless, it would take a hell of a lot to reform either of these guys, let alone both of them. First thing is first: getting those guys in my special custody. Jason and I might be dead even in power, maybe he had more strength but I was smarter. As for Freddy, I could probably take him in his physical form. With two survivors from each killer, a plan was forming. I called up Eddie's cell.

"Alex," he responded. "What up man?"

"Eddie, we got work to do. We'll have to start by getting tranquilizer, and a LOT of it."

To be continued…

Feel free to review—I know it's not that great, but the setup never really is. I also know some of you won't like the remake versions of the guys, but I feel these versions are darker than the original, even if they're not cooler.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Kane—The Angel of Retribution**_

Summary: Alexander Kane, part vigilante, part spiritual warrior, is given a task to bring in two of the most evil, undead, and demonic killers…alive! Can he find them? Will he be able to capture them? More importantly, can he restrain himself from disobeying his orders by killing them?

Author's Note: I do not own _A Nightmare on Elm Street_, _Friday the 13__th_, or any of the characters therein. The only part of this story I do own is the character and story of Alex Kane. Also, if you want to know more about the character and/or happen to like _The Lovely Bones_, then check out my alternate ending for that story involving my star character.

(Kane POV)-Springwood

I arrived at Westin Hills, a psychiatric hospital in the Springwood area. Apparently, Nancy and Quentin were taken there for trauma treatment after the incident. For a while they seemed fine, but when Nancy's mom was killed, it became obvious to them that Fred Krueger wasn't truly gone.

I'd done my recon work and had managed to break in after hours to acquire some scrubs and Eddie had forged me an ID badge. I would have to come at night when security was less tight to see the kids. It was about midnight when I got in with my ID and disguise. I had looked in the charts and records at the front desk and the doctor's office to find their rooms. I went to room 1F and unlocked it. There in bed lay Quentin Smith. I woke the boy up. He seemed startled, which I didn't blame him for given the circumstances. I put my hand across his mouth and held him there.

"Easy kid," I assured him. "I know about your so-called problem, and I'm here to help. You have to be quiet so I can get you and your girlfriend out of this place. It would be a LOT better if we went someplace more private. All right?"

He nodded in understanding, and I removed my hand. I told him, "I already know where Nancy is, so let's go upstairs and get out before someone notices." He asked me, "Who are you? How do you know about my 'problem'?" I replied, "Not now, we'll talk later when it's the three of us alone."

We went upstairs to room 2C and found Nancy. I let Quentin do the honor of waking her up and explaining that we were leaving. I led them out the back entrance to my car. Quentin took the front seat while Nancy sat in the back with some of my equipment, including my "uniform," an entirely black ensemble similar to Darkman or The Crow. I also had thick chains and padlocks. I had more stuff in the trunk, such as holy water, tranquilizers, mild sedatives, an AED (the thing paramedics use to jumpstart the body with an electric shock), and my weapons.

As I drove to the outskirts of town, I explained the situation in more detail. "My name is Alexander Kane. I'm a hunter by trade. Sometimes I hunt down serial rapists and/or killers, and sometimes I hunt things that can be considered demonic. Your pal Krueger seems to be a bit of both. I was sent here to take care of the problem. I've read all the reports on him and you kids, so I know all about your experience with him. The reason I sprung you two out of the hospital is because you've been his targets and are still alive. You two even managed to kill him, even if it was only temporary. If I'm not mistaken, you've been given drugs to control your dreams, which keep Krueger out for now, but if I get one of you sobered and back in as bait, I can wake you with an electric shock the moment you've got a hold on him."

They were letting this sink in when Nancy asked me, "Can you kill him?" I answered honestly, "I don't know. With enough time to research him, I could probably find out any vulnerabilities and kill him, but right now probably not. Besides, Krueger's no good to me dead."

"What the fuck are-? Are you insane? He's a monster, he can't live! If you can find a way to kill him, then do it!" Nancy yelled.

"And what if I screw up?" I retort. "What if I only temporarily kill him like you did? Then we'd be back to square one, and I didn't come all this way to come back empty handed." I sighed as I saw a look of defeat on Nancy's face. "Look kid, I've read his history and I'm no fan of his either. If I wasn't ordered to bring him back alive then I would kill him. But if I did that, then a whole lot of things could go wrong. I can't explain, but you guys have to trust me that it's better in the long run if he lives. Besides, if you knew what his life was like before you kids were even born, you'd know there was just as much pain given to him as there was dealt by him."

We all just sat in silence as I drove into a clearing a few miles outside of the city limits. As I got my costume out of the back seat, Nancy asked me, "Who _do_ you work for?" I answered, "Someone who's higher than me or Krueger, someone who knows what He's doing…I hope." She had a look of understanding as I began dressing in my regular outfit.

I was putting on my trench coat, half mask, and hat when Quentin asked me, "If you know so much about Krueger, then what the fuck is he?"

I began to set up the AED, some syringes, and a cot when I answered. "Freddy Krueger is neither alive nor dead. I've done some research that points to this conclusion, but he's more complicated than a zombie or a vampire. I told you I hunt demons. It is my belief that Freddy is powered by demons. You see, the Devil is always on the lookout for new minions, even humans. He usually gets other demons to scout for him, but occasionally he finds someone personally. He heard about Krueger and what he did to you and your classmates as well as his life's story from three minions of his. They were ancient Mesopotamian Dream Demons, they had the power to manipulate the realm of human dreams and the duty to find an evil soul worthy of having this power. They found Freddy and reported back to their master. He ordered them to recruit him. Most humans who work for Satan do so while their still alive, but a few rare are so lucky they get to do their evil deeds after death. That was the way the dream demons worked. When your parents burned Krueger to a crisp, they merged with his soul so that upon death, he would come back with their essence in him. With the demons' power, he's all but immortal. But he's not invincible. You two proved that. While he may be all but unstoppable in the dream world, his power is heavily reduced, but not eliminated, in the real world."

I gathered my weapons: a handgun, a butcher knife, and a bastard sword which I saved for demonic occasions. "Now," I began again, "here's the plan. I give this sedative to you long enough for that dream drug or whatever to wear off and to find the bastard. The minute you got him, I'll sense it and use this AED to shock you into waking up, bringing him out here. I will subdue him and capture him. As long as he's my prisoner, he won't harm either of you. Even in the physical realm he can't be in two places at once."

They were contemplating the plan, then Nancy said, "I'm in. I'll get him. I've done it before." Quentin looked worried. She assured him, "I'll be back, I've had plenty of sleep and we're not alone this time…All right?" He looked at her, then at me and back, and replied, "All right. I trust you, and him."

"Good," I said, "then let's get started." I gave Nancy the sedative, placed her on the cot and turned on the AED. After about two minutes, the poor girl finally seemed out cold. I would have Quentin watch her eye movement with me and occasionally check the AED to see if it was running okay. I didn't want any problems when it came time to wake Nancy up. In addition to watching her eyes, I also calmed myself, slowing my heartbeat, and getting in tune to the supernatural realm. I know, it sounds fucking cheesy, but this is how I sense angels and demons, mostly the latter since I go looking for those. When Freddy finds her and starts to get into the hunt, that's when I'll feel his presence the strongest and wake her up.

We waited for what seemed like hours but in reality was probably no longer than 20 minutes, enough time for her meds to wear off. Quentin and I noticed her eyelids twitching now and he seemed to be expecting the worst. All of a sudden, her face was twitching and slight murmurs were coming from her mouth. She's definitely seen him, but it's only a glimpse. Next, I feel something tugging at my heart, something evil. She's face to face with him now. Quentin was screaming for me to do something, but it wasn't the right time. The presence I felt was getting stronger and Nancy's arms were jerking. I motioned for Quentin to bring me the AED. I prepped it on Nancy's chest as quick as I could. I waited a few seconds for it to charge and then it gave the shock to her heart, jolting her awake and, out of nowhere, bringing her nightmare man.

He was only about as tall as I was, but leaner. The burns on his face were so horrible it almost seemed as if some of the nerves in his jaw were shut off. His weapon was interesting, a glove with razor blades on the four fingers. It was fancy, but I would've preferred something to attach to my wrist, but that was just me. I called to him, "Frederick!" No one likes being called by their full name. He slowly turned to me as he hovered above Nancy. He stood up and started moving his gloved index and middle fingers together, making a clashing metal sound from the blades. I took out my butcher knife to defend myself if necessary. I didn't want my sword out. It could damage him, especially now that he's here in a physical sense. We stood off, like some Clint Eastwood western, neither of us intimidated by the other. He said in a somewhat deep, raspy voice, "These are _my_ children. Interfere and you die." I replied, "Not on my watch asshole."

With that he swung his glove for my shoulder, which I quickly parried with my knife. I then grabbed him, and threw him to the ground. He wasn't expecting someone so strong. I tried to kick at his ribs, but he rolled out of the way, got up and thrust the glove again. This time, I grabbed his glove arm and spun/threw him into the side of my car. While he was still surprised, I made a small cut on his side. This made him angry, but impatient. He growled as he lunged to stab and tackle me, but I sidestepped him and grabbed him from behind and started to crush him. He struggled and stabbed me in various spots on my torso, but it didn't matter. Mere knife wounds healed very quickly, especially if they weren't made well, and Freddy wasn't in a position to be 100%. I lifted him and rammed him into the car, knocking some of the wind out of him. I reared back and rammed him again, and then I dropped him. I took out the other syringe from my coat pocket, the one with the tranquilizer, and thrust it into him, pumping enough shit to knock out a dozen men. In about 20 seconds he was out. I returned the syringe and knife in my pockets and proceeded to chain the bastard, lock him, and pour the holy water on the restraints for good measure.

I put him in the trunk with the equipment and drove the kids back to the hospital. I expected more of a fight from them about me killing him, but I think after seeing how easily I handled him they had faith in me that I knew what I was doing, or at least I knew more than they did. After all, they're a couple of teens and I do shit more or less like this for a living. I spotted a cop car at the hospital a couple of blocks away and let them out.

"You guys can either tell them you were sleepwalking or you can tell the truth and say I broke you out. I doubt they'll catch me seeing as I don't plan on coming back," I told them. Nancy just looked at me and asked, "You sure you can hold him?" "Pretty sure," I answered. Just as they opened their doors, Nancy took one last look at me and said, "Thank you." I just nodded and said, "You two just live a good life from now on. It should be a long one."

As they started walking in the direction of the cops and the hospital, I backed up and circled around avoiding the scene so I could leave town and head back to Chicago. At a nice isolated area I pulled over to take a piss. Afterward I got Freddy out of the trunk, gave him some more tranquilizers and put him in the back seat where I could keep an eye on him.

When I finally got home several hours later, Eddie was waiting with everything I said at my place. A couple of cages made of the thickest steel and blessed with holy water. Inside there was a hospital bed in each one with restraints attached. It didn't hurt to be too cautious after all. Eddie opened one of the cages and I laid Freddy down on the bed and attached the restraints. I made sure to sprinkle some holy water on these restraints as well as redo the chains and locks again. I took off his hat and glove and gave them to Eddie to hang in my armoire as I hooked up the IV with the tranquilizers to him.

Finally I turned to Eddie, and he asked me, "Well, we got him. What now?"

I answered, "Now, my friend, I'll take a trip to Jersey. While I'm at the coast, you're going to stay here and make damn sure our friend stays this way. He should be fine at this dosage. I know it's a bit high, but he'll live. If his eyelids even twitch once, up the dose. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got another undead, demonic serial killer to catch."

One down, one to go.

To be continued…

You know, I was actually going to try to make this as short as possible so I could go right through this in a hurry, but I love the characters too much. I respect Kane, Freddy, and Jason so much that I'm going to take my time and give them the attention they deserve, like the fighting. I didn't originally plan on having a fight scene in this chapter, but I couldn't have Freddy getting captured right away, that wouldn't be fair to the Freddy fans. After all, he's not one to go down without a fight. I promise that the fight with Jason should be more intense.

Feel free to review!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Kane—The Angel of Retribution**_

Summary: Alexander Kane, part vigilante, part spiritual warrior, is given a task to bring in two of the most evil, undead, and demonic killers…alive! Can he find them? Will he be able to capture them? More importantly, can he restrain himself from disobeying his orders by killing them?

Author's Note: I do not own _A Nightmare on Elm Street_, _Friday the 13__th_, or any of the characters therein. The only part of this story I do own is the character and story of Alex Kane. Also, if you want to know more about the character and/or happen to like _The Lovely Bones_, then check out my alternate ending for that story involving my star character.

(Kane's POV)-Crystal Lake

The sun had just set as I drove into Wessex County. I was wearing all of my uniform, or costume if you prefer, save for my hat and mask, a half-face mask like punk kids or robbers might wear. I didn't want to draw too much attention. After all, I was supposed to seek and retrieve, not scare a whole bunch of civilians. I doubt the Millers would help me take down Voorhees with me being just as scary as him.

I went to the nearest gas station to fill the car up when I noticed a phone booth. I wondered if finding them would be that easy. I looked thoroughly through the Ms until I came upon a Clayton Miller. His place was on some rural route, but I could find it. I asked the gas station cashier the directions for the address when I went to pay for fuel and some Pepsi. God knew I'd probably need the caffeine.

It took me about 10 minutes to find the place. In my head the game plan was going a few different directions. Really, it wouldn't be too different than with Freddy since I was using escaped prey as bait. Since Voorhees wasn't was metaphysical as Krueger, it sounded easier in theory. In practice, however, was probably going to be another story. Krueger was a pushover in the physical realm, so he didn't thrive here like Voorhees supposedly did. Then again, Jason wouldn't be the first demonic brute I've gone toe-to-toe with. This time I'd use a sword instead of my butcher knife. I couldn't risk damaging him, so I had to bring a regular broad sword, somewhat identical to my angelic one. If I used that blade, Jason would go down for the count, no matter what kind of hell spawn was bound to him.

I got out and walked up to the door. I knocked a few times and only had to wait a few seconds for the door to open a few inches, the chain still on. The face matched Clay Miller's photos, so I knew I was at the right place. "Can I help you?" he asked through the small gap.

"That depends, are you Clay Miller?"

"Yeah."

"You have a sister named Whitney?"

"What's it to you?"

"I can assure you Mr. Miller that I am not a cop and neither of you are in any trouble. I believe you just asked if you could help me and I believe you can and in return I can help you and your sister, as well as this whole town."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your sister went missing for approximately six weeks didn't she? Went on a trip with friends, only the friends never came back—"

"Get the fuck off my property or I'm calling the cops," he cut me off slamming the door in my face.

I yelled, "I know it was Jason Voorhees. Son of Elias and Pamela Voorhees, supposedly drowned at age 11 in the early 80s, presumed dead ever since. But you and I both know that's bullshit. I know you've seen him, that it was Jason who killed all those kids and nearly killed the two of you, and I'm pretty sure you have some horrible, nagging feeling that he's still alive in those woods."

A few seconds pass by until I hear the chain being taken off and the door opening completely. "What do you want?" he asked me simply.

"I want to capture Jason, and being his only known surviving would-be victims, you can bring him to me. He's seen you, on his land, on his property, yet you are still alive. In his mind that cannot do and upon recognition he will attempt to finish the job. You come with me to the camp, of which there is no doubt that he's still there, and help me to flush him out. I can then deal with him directly, incapacitate him, and remove Jason Voorhees from your hair."

"First of all, you don't know what you're dealing with. The guy isn't human. He's…something, I don't know what, but he's not going down like Bonnie and Clyde if that's what you're thinking. Second, I don't like the idea of me, or my sister being used as bait."

"I didn't say she had to, one of you will do fine, even though her resemblance to Pamela Voorhees could help. Then again, Jason may technically be mentally retarded, but I'm not so sure he's stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice. After all, he's living out in those woods like Rambo or something, so he ain't that stupid. In other words, Mr. Miller you'll do. And by the way, yes, I do know what I'm dealing with, more than _you_ know and you've seen the bastard. Come with me."

He reluctantly followed me to the trunk of my car where I showed him my hardware. Of course the guns wouldn't be necessary in my case, maybe for Clay's if it made him feel better.

I continue, "You see, Clay, I hunt men like Mr. Voorhees down like rabid dogs. Now, I'm not going to kill him. With that kind of power, I'm not sure I'm capable right now anyway, but he can't kill me either." As I said this I thrust a blade from one of my throwing knives into my hand and quickly removed it. I showed him the wound as it immediately began to seal itself, the blood flow stopping. "Now, Clay, if you help me get him, isn't that worth knowing that he's taken care of. I will always have an eye on him. I promise he will be dealt with accordingly. As God is my witness, Jason will never kill another innocent person again. You, Whitney, this whole town can rest easy and never have to worry about him ever again."

He sighed deeply, eyes closed deep in thought. He said, "All right, I'm in. When do we start?"

"Right now."

About 20 minutes later were just approaching parking areas for the woods. I explained the plan to Clay. He would go in with some of my guns, appearing to hunt Jason by himself. Jason will be drawn to his potential victim while I, a fellow hunter (one who's far better at stealth), will stick to Clay from the shadows, listening to his movements and feeling for his evil aura, like I did with Krueger. The second Jason came out for the kill, I would intercept. Even if I couldn't stick to close to Clay, I could still use some throwing knives when he comes out.

So, he walked, seemingly alone with one of my 9 mm's in hand, to the abandoned camp. We got to the cabins and good God it smelled! Who knows what the fuck he's been doing here for the past 20 years besides killing lost and/or high teenagers? We approached the closest cabin, and Clay was just about ready to open the door when all of a sudden these stadium lights came on. I overcame the light quick and I could feel movement on the other side of the cabin, as if I was right there. He was climbing up the wall, planning to attack from the roof. There was a sound of a sharp blade being unsheathed and there he was. He was taller and thicker than I was, wearing ragged clothes and a hockey mask to conceal whatever abominable image he was born with. In less than a second, my throwing knife went into where his neck and right shoulder met. He lost his footing and slipped down the side.

I went over to his landing space immediately, broad sword drawn, as well as some tranquilizers concealed in my coat. It didn't take him long to get up and look at me, a fellow scary masked man with a big ass blade as a weapon of choice. He tilted his head somewhat, as if seeing me from another angle would make me seem weaker, thus making more sense for him since clearly he was not used to intimidating prey. I couldn't help but be reminded of Spider-Man versus Scorpion, who was faster and stronger than him, but dumber and mentally unstable. Only question anyone could ask was who would win: the big fucking spider or the obviously deadly scorpion. Little did old Jason know that I was just as good at killing as he was. Technically he did for territory with the foundations of revenge, but I didn't stay in one place and wait for prey to come across my path like he did. I was always on the offensive, much like he appeared to be.

Immediately he swung his machete at my head, but I blocked it. God, he was tougher than I thought! I would have to draw from my emotions a lot to best Jason. Feeling rage within me, as I'm sure my opponent did, I pushed him back until he was against the cabin wall. I did three painful headbutts before he used his legs to kick mine, making me lose both our footing. I got up first, a second before him, and made for an attack. He moved away quickly enough so that I only grazed his ribs, as I had anticipated. Seeing his wound, he was in a fury now and did a series of thrusts and swings, just as I would, and grazed my shoulder. My wound healing quickly, I made for a similar attack, but I had to hold back so as not to injure Jason too much. He stood his ground as our blades were deadlocked at the end of my multiple swings. This time, taking a page from me, he headbutted me, HARD! That one attack broke my nose and cut into my forehead. Knocking me back with the headbutt gave him the advantage and he put a lot of strength into one powerful swing.

THWACK!

I screamed in pain, and I opened my eyes to see that his machete was embedded in my shoulder. Next thing I knew, gunshots were being fired. Goddamn that Clay! He was risking his life to try to help me, even though I told him I didn't need any. Jason quickly turned to see his runaway prey, took out a hunting knife he had on him, and started heading for Clay. Drawing from my adrenaline, I took out the machete in less than 10 seconds as Clay was still shooting at his oncoming target. I charged with the machete in hand and managed to run Jason through his right chest plate, avoiding his heart just in case it was vulnerable, which I doubted (at least in my case). In that moment of surprise on Jason's and Clay's actions, I quickly drew the syringe and thrust it into Jason. There was enough to knock out a few bull elephants with hard-ons (yeah, THAT much!). In less than five seconds he was down and unconscious. At last I could breathe easily, which reminded me of my nose, prompting me to snap it back into place. It hurt like hell, but my nose has been broken so many times I barely whimper when I fix it nowadays. My big shoulder wound was still healing when I was chaining Jason up, repeating the same process as I did with Freddy, and put him into the trunk.

I drove Clay home, who was left speechless by my bout with the man/monster who had nearly killed him once before. When we got there, he asked me, "What are you going to do with him?" I replied, "I'll find something useful for him to do. After all, Mr. Voorhees and I are alike in many ways. He could be useful, once he's seen the light so to speak." With that, Clay got out of the car and I drove on back to Chicago.

Eddie was waiting for me with Freddy still sleeping as I had left him in his cage. "Had any trouble?" I asked. He answered, "Nope, he slept like a baby the whole time. I didn't even have to up his sedatives."

I put Jason into the empty cage next to Freddy's. It was almost exactly the same, except there were more restraints on Jason's bed. With him being as strong as he is, he needed a lot more chains, and they had to be thicker. I finally blessed the restraints and locks on Jason and his cage and locked the door.

Eddie looked at me and asked, "Well, now what?"

I answered, "Let them sleep. They'll need their rest. When they wake up, I'll give them my start-of-class lecture and see where it goes from there."

I ended up staying up part of the night watching the two killers sleep before sleep finally took me. The last thing I remember before nodding off was: God help the bastards I hunt when I get done with these two.

Author's note: That's the end for now. I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, but I can't really imagine where to go from here. I hope this was fun for you guys; I especially enjoyed writing the fight between Alex and Jason. It was probably the biggest action scene I've written (maybe even better than the one I wrote in my Lovely Bones fic).

I'm open to reviews. I'd love to hear what you think. As for a sequel, maybe someday, but probably not likely.


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